


loving you is painful enough

by pearanormalactivity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Basically, F/M, Love, Love/Hate, Mutual Pining, One Shot, as canon as possible, because im corresponding with the book!, but what else you gonna do when youre quarantined BABY, dramione-freeform, kind of a lot of work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearanormalactivity/pseuds/pearanormalactivity
Summary: He tried to hate her, but he couldn't.She tried to hate him, but she couldn't.All they could do is never let anyone know how they felt.Especially not each other.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 7





	loving you is painful enough

**Author's Note:**

> HERES THE DEAL: i take a handful of interactions and experiences of draco and hermione throughout the CANON series and rewrite them with their inner emotions. no joke. ill put the canon scene at the beginning of each chapter, followed by my take on the scene. all dialogue is 100% canon unless I say its not at the beginning of each chapter. its kind of hard to explain, so I suggest you just read and see for yourself;)
> 
> the time draco warns hermione about the death eater attack
> 
> (or, in my eyes, tries not to but ends up wanting to help her but hates himself for it so he tries to make it sound cruel and brute but we all really know whats going on)  
> xoxo

**Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire**

**CHAPTER NINE: THE DARK MARK**

_“What happened?” said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. “Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid — lumos!”_

_She illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground._

_“Tripped over a tree root,” he said angrily, getting to his feet again._

_“Well, with feet that size, hard not to,” said a drawling voice from behind them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees._

_Ron told Malfoy to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley._

_“Language, Weasley,” said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”_

_He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them._

_“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Hermione defiantly._

_“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” said Malfoy. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”_

_“Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarled._

_“Have it your own way, Potter,” said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. “If you think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.”_

_“You watch your mouth!” shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that “Mudblood” was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage._

_“Never mind, Ron,” said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron’s arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy._

_There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly._

_“Scare easily, don’t they?” he said lazily. “I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What’s he up to — trying to rescue the Muggles?”_

_“Where’re your parents?” said Harry, his temper rising. “Out there wearing masks, are they?”_

_Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling._

_“Well . . . if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?”_

_“Oh come on,” said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, “let’s go and find the others.” “Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,” sneered Malfoy._

* * *

Panicked was an understatement of what was taking place. There was a mass of people–all running and screaming–granted, the show that was being displayed was spectacular in a sense, and the hysterical victims only contributed to the performance.

Draco leaned against a tree. He watched as the masses blundered through the trees, trying to beat the chaotic humdrum that followed. Witches and wizards alike brushed past him, but he didn’t pay attention to who they were. Only the panicked look on their faces.

The tiniest pool of dread began to settle and grow in the pit of his stomach. He tried not to look at their expressions anymore. He had nothing to be afraid of. Right?

Is this what they wanted to happen?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, it was immediately pushed away. Of course it is. He was a _pureblood_ , and that simple fact rid him of any anxiety he should have been feeling at that particular moment. This was the destiny of the wizarding world. No more hiding from muggles. No more subjugation and interbreeding with their kind. It would be better this way.

And then the light of a wand caught his eye.

His eyes first met the light, and closely trailed to find the owner. And who other would it be, than Hermione Granger.

Somehow, the pool of dread in his stomach came back. Larger.

She was with the other two, of course. She always was. Attached at the hip, practically. They were frantic, _she_ was frantic, which filled him with remor– _joy_. Filled him with joy. They should be scared. Draco glanced at where her wand was pointed. Weasley was flat on his face, the dumb bastard.

“Tripped on a tree root,” The ginger muttered, picking himself up angrily.

He shouldn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place. But oh, how he loved to antagonize the wizards in front of him. He hated those two.

Three. He meant he hated the three of them.

“Well, with that feet size, hard not to.” He watched as they slowly gained perspective on who was talking and where the voice came from. Their faces turned cold, and defensive.

He _definitely_ wasn’t bothered by the fact that Hermione’s looked at him with cold hatred.

Ron spat at him, something foul, which left Draco completely indifferent.

“Language, Weasley,” said Draco. He was rarely paying attention to the ginger, instead contemplating the bushy haired brunette in the wand light.

They were after muggles. They were after _mudbloods_. And though it didn’t matter to him–or so he kept telling himself, he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. If they caught her, they would make sure to humiliate her, just like the others. He could almost picture it: her flustered cheeks and unruly hair tumbling as she was hung upside down, tears in her eyes and the look of pure fear on her face–

He shoved those thoughts so far away and hoped they would be gone forever.

This was how it should be. He’s known this all his life. The fact that he feels a little guilty is normal, because he knows her personally, so watching her downfall would lead to feelings of remorse. But it is what needs to be done, so there really is no reason to give the trio a word of warning about the current situation. He shouldn’t give her any warning–

“Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”

Well.

His lips had betrayed his stubborn thoughts. He nodded lightly at Hermione, downplaying every emotion he felt in that particular moment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She replied sharply.

She was trying to remain strong, he could tell, but to completely conceal one’s emotions takes years of practice. And he could tell, she was frightened, ever so slightly.

He knew if he kept talking it would only make it worse. Make him _care_. He should just let them go.

“Granger, they’re after Muggles. D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair?” The more he tried to remove his feelings, the more they surfaced through his words, and it was slowly driving him insane. He had years of practice hiding his true emotions from being revealed through his facial features. But now he was betraying himself through spoken word.

“Because if you do, hang around . . . they’re moving this way–”

He attempted to recraft his statement, to sound cruel and indifferent.

“–and it would give us all a laugh.”

He smirked, but it didn’t meet his eyes. Because he didn’t mean it.

He exchanged a few more snide remarks with the three, but he wasn’t focused. Underneath his cool demeanor was a voice screaming for them–for _her–_ to get the hell out of there.

But Harry’s snarl caught his attention.

“Where’re your parents? Out there wearing masks, are they?”

Draco’s gaze shifted to meet the eyes of the “oh so revered” boy who lived. His smile didn’t falter, but his inner emotions did.

“Well . . . if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?”

It was a well-considered return, not revealing any information.

But yes, they were.

They maintained eye contact, and both eyes were ablaze with hatred and disgust.

It was Hermione who broke it up.

“Oh come on,” she snapped, giving Draco a disgusted look. His heart tried to sink, but he refused to let it.

“Let’s go and find the others.”

_Yes. Get out of here._

“Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,” He jaunted, one last remark to get her to look at him just one more time. It sounded mean. But he couldn’t stop looking at it. At her.

And she didn’t look back.

The entire night, he didn’t pay attention to anyone. He didn’t care who was in the crossfire of the magnificent display of the Death Eaters.

Except for her.

And he hated himself for it.


End file.
